


The Sky Is Filled with Stars, Invisible by Day

by patroclilles



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 10:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3566594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patroclilles/pseuds/patroclilles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is Mickey your boyfriend?”</p><p>Those were the first words Mickey Milkovich heard on the morning of his son’s christening. Four words that sparked heat in his throat - like he just swallowed a shot of whiskey, which isn’t the smartest thing to do first thing in the morning - and pooled into his gut. He sat up quickly, looked around, making sure he was really where he thought he was: Ian’s room.</p><p>It was just the oddest thing that it didn’t feel odd at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sky Is Filled with Stars, Invisible by Day

**Author's Note:**

> I've had [this headcanon](http://halseystr.tumblr.com/post/103485065418/alright-we-gotta-talk-about-how-mickey-overheard) for months so I finally decided to have a go at it.
> 
> Enjoy!

Too often has Mickey Milkovich woken up to his heart pounding. Too often has Mickey Milkovich woken up with sweaty palms and anxious thoughts.

None of those times had been for good reasons.

But this time - this time it was for the best reason of all.

“Is Mickey your boyfriend?”

Those were the first words Mickey Milkovich heard on the morning of his son’s christening. Four words that sparked heat in his throat - like he just swallowed a shot of whiskey, which isn’t the smartest thing to do first thing in the morning - and pooled into his gut. He sat up quickly, looked around, making sure he was really where he thought he was: Ian’s room.

It was just the oddest thing that it didn’t feel odd at all. 

“We hang out.” 

Mickey’s head snapped to the source of the sound. He saw Carl down the hallway looking up at Ian, whose body was half hidden by the doorframe that he was doing chin ups on.

“He’s in your bed.” 

Mickey was slowly to trying to decipher the nature of Carl’s ridiculous question. He didn’t really think much more about _why_ Carl was asking questions when he looked down and realized that, yeah, he was in Ian’s bed.

And, just like that, in the few seconds before Ian responded to what Carl said, memories of the night before came flooding back.

_I’ll do it._

Just like that, he remembered his promise to Ian from the night before. Remembered the promise _Ian_ made: he was back and here to stay.

“Yeah, his family’s a nightmare,” Mickey heard Ian say. 

Mickey found himself frozen on Ian’s bed, sitting and listening intently to the conversation being held on the other side of the floor. 

He saw Carl smack Ian’s half-obscured body and say, quite cutely, “think I got a girlfriend.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ian replied, echoing Mickey’s very thoughts. Good on the little Gallagher for getting his game on.

“Yeah, her family’s a nightmare too.” Mickey scoffed softly, because whose family _isn’t_ a fucking wreck on this side of town?

“Whose isn’t?” Ian said, making Mickey smile. 

And then the nerves came rushing back when the younger Gallagher asked his next question. 

“You love Mickey?”

Fuck. Mickey wanted to stand up and interrupt their conversation right then and there. They weren’t ready for this. They never have been ready for such confessions.

They had never been ready for anything thrown at them. And for some reason, they end up dealing with it anyway.

Mickey saw Ian drop from the doorframe and ruffle his brother’s hair thoughtfully. He stepped forward just a bit, making him entirely visible to Mickey, who felt the lump in his throat making it hard for him breath and the sweat drip down from his temple. It dripped down to the corner of his mouth, and he tasted the salt, chasing the sweet feeling of Ian’s potential answer. 

In the few eternal seconds before Ian responded, Mickey thought he might as well let this question get answered - there were too many never answered for Mickey. 

He felt like he deserved this answer most of all.

Ian turned his head just slightly, looking towards his room. “Yeah...” Ian looked at Mickey as he said so. 

Answering Carl, and _telling_ Mickey, he said, “I do.” 

Carl took in the change in demeanor on Ian’s face and smiled to himself, like he was taking a mental note of just how smitten Ian gets when it comes to Mickey. Carl nodded slowly and turned away, taking the stairs to the living room, leaving Ian alone to stare at his obviously flustered boyfriend who was desperately looking for a cigarette in the jeans he left on the floor from the night before.

Mickey finally looked up when he saw Ian’s frame in his periphery, still having yet to find his much needed cigarette.

Ian. Confident as ever, smug as he looked on Mickey’s obviously nervous state, leaning on the doorframe to his room.

Poor Mickey didn’t even have it in him to look at him. After that confession?

_Yeah, I do love him._

He shot up and walked forward to pick up his brown sweater from the floor when he realized that they were about to fucking _talk about it_. But godfuckingdamn Gallagher wasn’t having it, and Mickey could tell. 

There was no stopping Ian Gallagher when he wanted something.

And Mickey could tell he wanted him. 

Mickey walked backwards as Ian approached him slowly, looking both aloof but assessing. The moment Ian got within one feet of him, the back of Mickey’s knees hit the bed and he fell on it, hardly aware that he had been walking away. 

He just stared on as the redhead walked away to closed the door and turned back to Mickey with a face that was the hardest thing for Mickey to read - confident smirk in place but shy eyes that fluttered open and close, just the fact that his gaze landed on Mickey was coquettish enough.

The next words were some that Mickey never thought he would ever say.

“So...you love me, huh?” Mickey asked, biting his lip, looking at his knee because he couldn’t look Ian in the eyes.

“You surprised?” Ian asked flatly, as if to say, _after all we’ve been through?_ Ian then leisurely took off his tank like it was the most casual thing in the world. It made Mickey’s mouth water. After Ian tossed it in the hamper, Mickey looked at him.

“Yes?” Mickey answered. Ian gave him a pointed look, Mickey blushed and looked down again. “No? God,” he rubbed the bridge of his nose and raises his eyebrows, “do we really have to talk about this?”

“We don’t _have_ to. But might as well get comfortable saying it, right? Are we a couple or not, Mick?” Ian said rather harshly, moving to take off his sweatpants next. God, did he have to do this now? 

“‘Course we are, Ian...” Mickey confessed.

“Then say it, Mickey.”

“Ian...” Mickey said, as if to warn Ian off.

“Mickey...” Ian replied, challenging.

Mickey finally snapped, unable to take the pace they'd been taking things for the past few days. “Will you just fuck off! I find you passed out nearly naked on the freezing sidewalk,” he said as he stood and mustered the strength to enter Ian’s space, shoving him hard. “I take you home, I take care of you. And you run away like a bitch and then come back to me saying you fucking love me? What the fuck, Gallagher?” Mickey boomed, completely infuriated that this was how it all came out. _It wasn’t supposed to fucking be like this._

Ian stumbled back, but soon redoubled in confidence (how does he fucking _do_ that?) “You want me to fucking lie, Mick?” he asked, as if disgusted by this prospect.

“I don’t fucking know, Ian!” Mickey screamed back, turning around to face the bed, couldn’t keep looking at the heart that beated so visibly on Ian’s sleeve. Couldn’t break it again, so he decided not to face it at all.

“You always want more than I can fucking give.” Mickey whispered after a few moments.

Heat crawled up his spine as he felt Ian step closer from behind, his hardly clad body closing in around his as Ian wrapped his long freckled arms around Mickey’s waist. Mickey leaned into the heat.

Mickey would give him that, right now, even when he wanted to give Ian the whole damn world.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Mick,” Ian said into the crook of Mickey’s neck as he took a deep inhale, making Mickey tilt his head to give Ian more to work with. 

_Is it?_ Is it bullshit that all Mickey’s ever given Ian has been broken bones and a broken heart and all of it - all of that pain - unseen to the world? 

How could Mickey ever give Ian any more than that? No matter how much Mickey...

“Say it, Mickey.” 

_Loves him._

Mickey turned around in the space Ian’s arms could allow and looked into Ian’s eyes. He wanted to say it, give the stars in Ian’s eyes a reason to shine, when all Mickey has ever done is given them reasons to dim.

He wanted to, but he couldn’t.

Mickey let his gaze fall on Ian’s slightly parted lips, and he shifted on his toes to slowly lift himself and slot his between them. The kiss was soft and lingering, and when they finally separated, Mickey allowed himself to look into Ian’s disappointed eyes. 

And then he shifted again to tell Ian _I’m sorry_ the only way he knew how. 

He brought Ian’s lower lip between his teeth, making Ian gasp and tighten his hold around Mickey’s waist, pulling them closer together, unable to let Mickey go - he knew how hard it’d be to; he never thought he’d be able to do it again. Never, never, never again.

Mickey sucked on Ian’s lower lip as the redhead maneuvered them towards the small twin bed and lowered them carefully, and Ian found that his mind was clouded, the words exchanged not seconds before becoming a blurry string of noises that didn’t matter nearly as much as having Mickey this close to him now. So he settled himself on top of Mickey as Mickey devoured his mouth, getting even closer as he licked into his mouth and drew out low moans from the boy above him. 

Mickeys hands snaked their way up Ian’s chest and settled on the back of Ian’s neck, pulling him down until Ian found nearly every inch of his body making contact with Mickey’s, never wanting to disconnect. Ian gripped Mickey’s shirt and slipped his hand underneath, eager to draw out every heated moment between them, eager to make Mickey squirm.

And Mickey did. As Ian moved his hand up Mickey’s stomach and thumbed his nipples, Mickey groaned and bit hungrily at Ian’s lips, and it made Ian tremble. The wet sounds from their kissing and the breathes exchanged between their lips all they could hear, the tongues outlining lips and claiming bites and wandering fingers all they could feel. Each other being all they knew, and learning more the more they explored with their tongues and bodies.

Ian ground himself down, getting hard quickly as Mickey pushed his hips up to meet Ian’s. They both groaned at the feeling and continued their dance, their boxers being the only pieces of clothing between their hardening cocks. 

They soon lost their breath as they ground together faster and more insistently, too wrapped up in the feeling of each other to disconnect and remove the rest of their clothing, but all too soon Ian sat up on his knees with an impatient grunt, Mickey’s eyes widening as he took in Ian’s flushed and breathless state. 

“Fuck, Ian,” Mickey gasped as Ian removed his boxers and began to palm him, still seated, stradling Mickey’s hips and pinning him to the small bed. 

Mickey’s back bowed as Ian moved his hand to grasp his cock, slicking it with Mickey’s precome and stripping it at a torturously slow pace. Mickey let out an unapologetic moan, closing his eyes and letting his head loll back against the pillow. 

“Yeah, Mick. Fuck,” Ian whispered as he lowered himself to mouth at Mickey’s inviting neck. Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian’s neck and pulled at Ian’s dark red strands as Ian rubbed him and humped against him, kissing his neck like he kisses his mouth, claiming.

“Fuck, Ian, close.” Mickey groaned when Ian sat up again at the words, eager to give Mickey another kind of satisfaction.

“Turn over,” Ian said darkly, shifting to take off his own boxers as Mickey did as he was told. 

All too soon, Mickey felt a warm, wet feeling at his hole and he bit into the pillow as Ian became more insistent, Mickey being the only thing he wanted to taste. 

“Yeah, fuck,” Mickey moaned into his pillow.

“Like that?” Mickey heard Ian say, and Mickey had to shut his eyes to keep them from rolling into the back of his head. It was otherworldly, the feeling of having Ian here, speaking to him with such a tone that Mickey knew Ian kept just for him. 

“Just like...just like _that_ ,” Mickey gasped as he felt Ian enter him with his tongue again, tensing it as Mickey clenched and relaxing it once Mickey did too.

“Oh, fuck,” Mickey sobbed into Ian’s pillow, muffling his sounds.

But Ian’s hand found Mickey’s hair, and he pulled until Mickey wailed and let Ian lift his head. It’d always been all or nothing with them. Keep a lid on it, lest anyone find out.

But now it was everything. In this room, in this home that acted as one more than Mickey’s ever could. Everything. Together. 

Mickey lifted his hips and pushed back against Ian’s face, lifting himself on his arms as Ian pulled more eagerly at his hair. God, he was so close. He yearned to tell Ian to finish him, but he needn’t, because then Ian had his hand around Mickey’s cock as he slurped and sucked on Mickey’s hole, stripping his dick in rhythm with Mickey’s breath.

“Ian, gonna -” he gasped, “gonna fuckin’...come,” Mickey ground out, unable to breath, unable to fucking _think_.

Ian sat on his knees, ducking his head to eat Mickey out and stroke him, and he wouldn’t _stop_ , he didn’t stop until...

“Fuck!” Mickey screamed as he came, his come shooting out and staining the already dirty sheets of Ian’s bed. His arms trembled and he let them fall, Ian’s hand releasing his head as Mickey panted into the pillow. And Ian kept at it until the last of Mickey’s orgasm shook right out of him. Ian sat back on his legs and watched as Mickey twitched, breathless in front of him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smiled at a job well done. 

Mickey laughed as the afterglow settled in, only vaguely aware that Ian hadn’t gotten off himself, then becoming acutely aware as he saw Ian in the corner of his eye begin to jerk himself off. 

“No,” Mickey said, breathing hard, but allowing himself to lift himself and place his hand on Ian’s hand to stop his ministrations. He bit his lip as he saw Ian’s huge cock just, _there_ , waiting to be touched.

“Let me ride you,” Mickey said finally as he stared at Ian’s lap. Ian’s breath caught at the suggestion.

“Are you sure?” Ian said, eyes searching for any hint of hesitation in Mickey’s.

“Shut the fuck up and let me ride you,” Mickey snapped, uncaring for the fact that his dick was soft. He’d get hard for Ian in a minute.

Ian let Mickey maneuver him onto his back. “Wait,” Ian said, hardly having time to realize he had lube in the bottom of his drawer. Mickey sighed impatiently and removed his own shirt as Ian rambled to get it. And then he was on his back again, Mickey snatching the bottle to prep himself as Ian watched.

Mickey threw his head back and bit his lip, entering his fingers into his already loose hole, and then it was Ian who was biting his lip, unable to keep a lid on how good it felt when Mickey’s hand wrapped around his cock to position it right underneath Mickey.

And then Mickey was sinking, slowly, until Ian was all in, gripping Mickey’s hip and lifting his hips as Mickey began riding. 

Ian moaned as Mickey clenched around him every time he dropped. A minute later, a minute of sweaty bodies moving together and the sound of slapping flesh, Mickey’s cock hardened again and Ian was keen to touch it, but Mickey slapped his hand and let his cock bob, focusing on just making Ian feel good right now. 

“Shit, Mickey, you look so...” Ian babbled, not knowing what to do with the sight above him or with his hands, grasping Mickey’s hips.

“Shut up, shut _up_ ,” Mickey panted and with one last “fuck” he dropped his body forward to kiss Ian, swallow his words, licking into his mouth as they both moaned at the feeling of Mickey around Ian.

“I’m close, Mick,” Ian panted into Mickey’s mouth.

“Okay, okay,” Mickey said, pulling back to mouth at Ian’s neck, pulling more unabashed noises from Ian’s throat. Ian looked down and saw Mickey moving on his cock, his hand now on his own cock, stripping it in time with their hips.

And then they were coming together, and hard. Mickey bit down as it hit him, and Ian’s hips shot up one last time as Mickey bore down, clenching around him and screaming into Ian’s neck. 

Mickey fell on top of Ian with a gasp, sealing them together, never wanting to part. 

Alas and at long last, Mickey removed himself from Ian, grabbing a random shirt from the floor to clean himself. He sat on the edge of the bed and breathed deeply as Ian traced lines on Mickey’s naked back, awaiting words that he knew would disappoint.

But Mickey was done disappointing - living up to this expectation that he could never give what Ian wanted.

He’d give him _something_ today. 

“Come on, get ready,” Mickey said finally, turning to look at Ian.

Ian’s eyes widened at the words. “Where are we going?”

Mickey sighed, standing up. “My kid’s christening,” he replied simply. 

Ian blanched, excitement sparking among his features, but he stopped himself from getting too excited. “Are you sure?” he asked before his eyes dropped, already questioning Mickey’s intentions. Having him at the far back of the church, having him in the background of the Alibi as Mickey drank away his truths with his father.

But that wasn’t Mickey’s intention.

Mickey knew he should be scared - because he fucking was. Every time Mickey _felt_ scared he knew it was for good fucking reason. 

Mickey was terrified. So he told Ian the truth, “‘course I’m not, shithead. Get ready.” It was as simple as that.

But he knew telling Ian what he wanted to hear wouldn’t be as simple. He wouldn’t be able to tell Ian how he felt just yet - that he loved him with every fucking fiber of his being, and that he felt it through every vein and nerve in his body. 

But he felt almost ready to let the world in on how much the boy meant to him, even if the idea of doing so scared him to his very marrow.

So that night, Mickey came out. Unsure, scared, sure that his life was going to end at the very end of his revealing words.

But he lived. And so did Ian.

That night, Ian and Mickey were invisible no more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Peep me at [halseystr](http://halseystr.tumblr.com) on tumblr. Don't forget to leave comments and yo kudos!


End file.
